Firenze wrapped the coat tighter around himself and sat down on the wooden bench near the factory, waiting for the cab to arrive. The cop stood not far away from him, presently engrossed in a small vial of rum. Neil had told them to wait for him, and he was still inside, calling his family and catching his breath.

His stomach had growled at him in protest when he ate an apple a few minutes ago.

The moonlight bathed Helga in a white aura, hair a raging wildfire in the whipping wind. Her moss green eyes pierced his suddenly, a tingling warmth filled him, starting from his cheeks and spreading through his body.

Firenze realized that he had been ogling at her for a long time and managed to lower his gaze, feigning interest in his battered shoes. He wondered why he was such a sissy; any man would've just walked to her confidently and worded his thoughts.

Women are not mere decorations to be admired! You have successfully made her feel uncomfortable, you misogynistic jerk. Great job, way to ruin your life!

The clearing of a throat made him lift his eyes. He jolted up and acknowledged it, his black eyes meeting hers.

"Oh hey, Helga!"

She smiled warmly. Her smile could've lit up the entire city of Nürnberg like it was Christmas.

She sat down at a comfortable distance from him.

"Hey."

"Candlelight."

"I'm sorry?"

"Uh, I was just reminding myself to bring some candles home, hehe," he said rubbing his neck.

She laughed.

"Oh! I prefer beeswax to petroleum derived ones. They smell better."

"I don't know much about candles, to be honest. I did like the lavender scented ones you get here."

"You've checked out the local candles? But we just got here in the morning."

"I'm pretty quick, I guess," He lied.

"How do you like Rasüte so far?"

Firenze took a moment to think. The country air was cool and dust-free. The trees danced and swayed in the breeze, showering their blossoms like confetti. The jasmine vines wound around the antique lamp-posts. Little white, star-shaped flowers tried to catch moths with their heavenly fragrance.

Rasüte did feel like a paradise on earth.

But.

"Maybe. I'm not quite sure, with all the incidents."

"I understand. That's why we moved to Nürnberg. . . my family. A lot many peculiar incidents happened to them while their stay here. Including me, apparently. "

"You?"

Helga straightened up and said,

"Found me at their doorstep here during a thunderstorm. Never quite fit in with them. I hated this place all the while, its people, fauna, even the flowers. Found peace when I moved out. Yet, here I am. . ."

"Fate is a twisted backstabber, eh?"

It wasn't long before their breaths mingled and laughter united in the night air. They chatted and chatted, until seconds turned into minutes and into hours. He stole a quick glance at his watch, and saw the hour hand on twelve.

Getting up, he asked, "Helga, did Neil come back?"

Her eyebrows scrunched together in doubt. She stood up and proceeded to ask the cop, who was way too tipsy to answer her queries, staring into the bushes. Hissing with frustration, Firenze strode into the factory gates, flashlight in his hands. Much to his dismay, the area seemed to be devoid of Neil; it seemed to be devoid of any signs of life. He called out his name, heart thudding in fear of the worst.

Suddenly, a rustle was heard nearby in the thick bushes. The sound of grass being pushed aside and leaves being shaken suggested that some animal had run off into the forest.

Probably a fox, or a rabbit.

A moment later, they noticed something, rather someone, running into the forest calling, "Hey, wait up!"

They looked at each other in confusion and ran behind the man. It was Neil, drenched in sweat and water, reeking of antiseptic. He ran, disappearing into the mist beneath the redwoods and oaks, through the ferns and out of sight, deaf to their cries.

Firenze ran behind but almost fell over, being held back by a powerful arm.

Helga pleaded, her eyes startlingly terrified,

"Please, don't even think about it!"

Firenze's eyes met hers, a defiant look dancing in them. He slapped her hand off him and ran into the forest.

His shoes made soft thuds against the moss covered ground and the maze of trees deluded him of the sight of his mentor. Finally, he arrived at a clearing. Looking around, he found nothing worth his attention. He heard his friend's voice in the foliage before him.

Who is he searching for? His fairy godmother?

A soft crunch of fallen leaves and branches was heard. Leaves shook, as footsteps of something big echoed nearby. Claws raked across bark, dry lichen scraps fell down. Light fell in stripes through the canopy. Neil's voice faded into a distant tired whisper.

Firenze saw a furred muzzle poking out from a furze bush. Inquisitive, he moved forward but kept his distance. It was a fox, a vixen perhaps with shining eyes that regarded him. The way he stood– frustrated, aggressive and dominant, would've been enough to scare off any vulpine friend, but this one just stood there.

Firenze called for Neil at the top of his lungs, ignoring the pair of eyes. No response came, not even a whisper. Distraught, he took a stick lying on the forest floor and threw it.

Sailing in a perfect arc, it flew into the furze bush. A howl reverberated from there, one of pain. He immediately regretted doing that, remembering that the bush was occupied. The eyes returned, this time yellow and blazing with anger.

He felt himself being slammed onto a tree trunk, back being pressed against the rough bark. Splinters of wood pierced his shoulder as he felt powerful biceps pinning him to the oak.

The creature was one straight out of his nightmares. Glistening red haired body, blazing yellow eyes, frothing mouth with dagger like fangs, snarling at him was a lanky yet well muscled beast of prey. So much for a cute fox.

He felt its claws digging into his ribs and crushing them. Searing pain paralyzed his feet and chest, every breath setting his lungs on fire. He saw a silver collar, covered with his blood, glinting on its neck. Writings in an unknown language encircled it.

The mouth snapped open wide, baring inch long canines.

A flash of white, and the daggers sank into his neck.

Pain. Blood.

He screamed and kicked, crying for help, but the beast clamped down its jaws. His windpipe burned with every breath, each heartbeat becoming more erratic than the last. The pain and shock numbed his body until his limbs gave up.

His vision went in and out of focus, the once soft moonlight blinding his tired eyes. His mind was on overdrive, it was almost like a nightmare, and he saw, remembering every single detail.

Full moon shining. . .

Creature howling. . .

Line of red on its neck. . .

A silver whip. . .

Lightning?

Falling down into dirt. . .

Mud in mouth. . .

I'm on the ground. . .

Who's. . .

Neil?

Who. . .where are you running off to?

Watch out! Someone is. . .

Where are you taking him?! Let hmm go. . .

Who are you. . . where is my friend?

Lady. . . who is she. . . whip. . .

The creature. . . pain. . .don't kill. . .

Put me down. . .

My name. . .

It's Firenze, Firenze Di Mario. . .

I'm not. . .

No. . .no. . .

Stop repeating. . . that is not my nmm. . .

My nmme is Firen. . .

I. . .

But the man refused.

Smiling at the weak dying youth whom he had effortlessly lifted by the neck, he repeated a name. The forest, the full moon, his lady companion hidden in the woods, the unconscious adult lying nearby and the bleeding creature at his feet heard his voice clearly, as he declared,

"Barry. . ."